The Count
by Red Weather Tiger
Summary: Fai has witnessed many terrible things. All of these things have been brought on by the people he now finds himself surrounded by. He has found and befriended them, and now he will destroy their lives from the inside.  Based on the Count of Monte Cristo.
1. A Rival in Paris

The Manor resided on a hill just above Paris. From its large bay windows one could see almost the whole of the great city; it stretched for miles in every direction, all color and bright lights.

No one had been in the Manor for over twenty years, since its previous owner had died. It had, over those years, fallen into disrepair, but no one would know it for looking at it now. The lawn had been miraculously redone, with lush green grass covering every corner, and large oak trees providing ample shade and privacy to the house. The walls of the Manor had been repainted, the walk repaved and the windows replaced. Judging by the glorious outside one would expect that the inside would be just as beautiful, just as refined- which, of course, it was.

The bright eyes of a young servant were just visible as he watched out the window, hiding the rest of his body and face with the curtain. He looked on as a horse drawn carriage made its way up to the gate. The footman got out and opened it, and the carriage proceeded on until it had reached the pillared entrance of the manor. The servant pulled himself away from the window and ran downstairs to meet his master at the door.

The Count stepped down from his carriage and, with a whimsical smile crossing his lips, looked up at his most magnificent new home. "It's perfect," he said, throwing a glance behind himself at the carriage, "don't you think?"

There was a grunt as another man alighted from the carriage. He was taller than the Count, just as finely dressed, but no one would ever mistake one for the other. This man looked upon the Manor with a frown and said indignantly, "Its big."

"Yes it is. It was the most beautiful house available in this city. Cost me an ungodly amount to have it fixed up, but no matter." The Count, still smiling, began making his way up the steps to the doorway, "If I'm going to live in this city of squalor I must have some place that doesn't remind me of filth."

The other man ran a hand through his short, black hair. He hadn't moved, hardly able to take his eyes off the Manor, "How long are we going to be here?" he asked distractedly.

The Count approached the door, which immediately opened without him touching it. A servant bowed to him and bade him come inside. Before entering the Count looked back at his friend and grinned, "As long as it takes to do what I have come to do, Kurogane, and no longer."

The Count and his friend spent the next few hours looking about the house and getting their affairs in order. The servants gave the Count a tour of his new house, which they had painstakingly furnished with things they believed would please him. To their delight he found the place perfectly to his taste. Monsieur Kurogane found some of the decorations less to his liking but said nothing. After all, it was not he who bought the house.

The two of them were just about to sit down to dinner when a servant appeared to tell the Count that he had a message from one Viscount of Edonis and his young friend the Baron of Shara. The young Viscount, it seemed, had heard of the Count's arrival in Paris and would consider it an honor to wait on him as soon as possible.

"How soon?" asked the Count.

"Sir, the young men are waiting for your answer in the parlor."

Kurogane put down his fork, disbelieving, "What? They didn't send a message? They just showed up?"

"Yes. I tried to keep them out of the house, Monsieur, but the Viscount insisted on being let in. He was very forceful."

"Some people have no damn respect." Kurogane stood up from the table, his hands clenched into fists, "I'll go turn them out."

"No no dear Kuro." Said the Count, getting to his feet himself, "We can't have people disliking me on my first day in the city. Besides, this saves me the trouble of having to go meet the Viscount myself."

Kurogane, though visibly frustrated by this, asked no questions, and simply followed his Master to the parlor. He did, however, make a point of asking the Count just what his interest was in the Viscount at a later date.

In the parlor they found two handsome young men in fine clothing. Both had dark hair and pale, pointed faces, but in one man's eyes there was a look of constant suspicion and deep anger, where in the other's there was naught but a quiet kindness.

When the Count entered, the young men stopped the spirited conversation they had been having and rushed to introduce themselves.

"Monsieur," said the kinder looking of the two, "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice. We realize that we have most likely just interrupted your dinner. We would have come earlier except that we had trouble finding this place."

"That's quite alright," said the Count bowing back to the young man. He then turned away from him and addressed the other, "You are the Viscount of Edonis?"

The suspicious man nodded slowly, his eyes shifting uncertainly over the Count and Kurogane, "My name is Kamui, Monsieur," he replied, "I am the Viscount."

"And that would make me the Baron," said the other young man with a gentle smile, "You may call me Subaru."

The Count grinned at the two of them, and was just about to speak when the Kurogane stepped forward and cut him off.

"And what is it that you two have come here for at this time of the evening?"

Kamui looked Kurogane up and down, his eyes narrowed.

Subaru brought his eyes to the ground. "We are sorry for that, Messieurs. As I said we had trouble finding you."

Kurogane growled, "It's an enormous house on top of a hill. How difficult-?"

The Count put a hand up, not only to stop Kurogane's unfriendly remarks, but also the rebuke he saw forming on the Viscount's lips. "Please. Pay no attention to Monsieur de Nihon. It hardly matters what time it is. What I wish to know is why you two fine young gentlemen have come here. Surely you have more exciting things to do in the evenings than visit wealthy old men like myself."

Subaru couldn't help but laugh a little at the Count. In truth, while he did appear to be very wealthy, he looked anything but old. His blond hair still had its sheen; his slender frame still carried him with the grace and agility of youth. Perhaps the only thing that gave away his greater age were the subtle lines around his right eye- the one that wasn't hidden by the ornate black eye-patch he had tied around his head.

"My mother prides herself on knowing all of the most important news in Paris," said Kamui over his friend's laughter. "She informed me that a very important, wealthy man would be moving into this manor. She expressed great interest in seeing you, so I thought it pertinent to wait upon you as soon as possible."

"That much is obvious," mumbled Kurogane.

"Wonderful," cried the Count, grasping both men's hands in his own and grinning. "Honestly I feel fortunate that I didn't have to seek you out. It is difficult to bring oneself into Paris society; I was in need of someone to introduce me into it."

Subaru and Kamui were quiet for a moment. They looked at each other in confusion.

"We came here on behalf of Kamui's mother…" began Subaru.

"We honestly had no plan for introducing you anywhere," finished Kamui decisively.

The Count laughed through these remarks as if they were the kindest of compliments, "But in introducing me to your mother you will have already started the process. I expect she knows all the important people of Paris."

"Well, yes," Kamui shrugged, "I suppose if you are looking for an introduction into the Paris aristocracy then my mother is the one to ask. She knows everyone."

"Very good! Then will you ask her if she will give me the pleasure of waiting on her tomorrow?"

"Certainly," replied the Baron, checking his watch. "Now, I believe that we have kept you away from your dinner long enough. Allow us to send up a servant tomorrow morning with the Countess's answer?"

"Wonderful. Thank you gentlemen; you are most kind. I'll come when she asks me to."

Later, the Count and Kurogane sat together in the parlor. The latter sat near the hearth, taking long drags from a beautiful pipe and reading that day's post. The former sat across from him, staring into the fire with one amber eye.

At length, Kurogane grew tired of his master's pensive silence, and sighing said, "Well, are you going to tell me what that was all about or are you not?"

The Count stirred, "What?"

"You knew who the Viscount was before you met him. You seemed eager to meet his mother. What does that mean?"

"I did know the Viscount. He serves my purpose. I've made it a point to know everyone who serves my purpose."

"His mother? Does she 'serve your purpose?"

The Count nodded, "Yes. Though, if she knows I'm here, she may already realize that," he shrugged, "If she doesn't she will soon enough."

Kurogane sighed. He could never get a simple answer. After a few moments silence, in which he watched the Count sink deeper and deeper into his own thoughts, he put his paper and pipe down and asked, "Are you thirsty?"

The Count smiled appreciatively.


	2. A Gathering of Men

On the morning after his visit with the Count, Kamui spoke to his mother about the possibility of a visit from this most distinguished man. His mother replied, coldly, calculatingly, that she would like very much to have breakfast with him the following day.

"Invite the young Baron," she added after a moment's thought, "And some of your other friends."

Kamui immediately dispatched several servants to the houses of some of his closest friends, and to the Count's manor. They later returned with messages stating that all would be happy to attend.

Subaru was the first to arrive the next morning; the two young men sat together in the parlor, exchanging their opinions of the Count and his friend Monsieur Kurogane.

Eventually, Fuma, a tall boisterous young man who wrote for the post arrived, bringing with him a set of beautifully decorated bottles he said he'd gotten in the east.

"Who gave them to you?" asked Subaru, taking one and looking it over. Inside each one was a small amount of colored liquid.

"No one gave them to me," said Fuma indignantly, leaning against the hearth with his arms folded. "I found these myself, thank you."

"But why have you brought them here?" Kamui eyed the bottles questioningly, but refused to touch them.

"They're for your mother of course. She always requests that I bring her things from my travels. These were by far the most interesting things I found."

Subaru shook his head, "But what's in them?"

Fuma was about to reply that he didn't rightly know, when a cheerful voice near the door said: "It's poison, isn't it Fuma? Or Absinth?"

All three heads turned to find two young men standing in the doorway. They had beaten the old servant there who had come to introduce them. The servant, red with embarrassment, pushed his way past the two men and said, "Monsieur Watanuki of Oto, and Monsieur Syaoran of Clow."

Kamui greeted Watanuki with a polite nod and handshake, his gaze drifting more than once to the other young man, whom he had never met before.

Fuma was warmer. "Wata!" he cried, going to embrace his friend.

"Fuma," Watanuki smiled, "I'm glad you're back. I didn't have the chance to wish you well before you left for the Orient."

"I meant to visit you before I left, I really did."

"Right. Of course you did. Now was I right about what's in those bottles?"

Fuma feigned being offended, "Now do you really think I would bring the Countess anything dangerous? You know I wouldn't. Kamui would murder me."

All present laughed at this, all except for Monsieur Syaoran, who simply smiled nervously and shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Watanuki caught his expression, "Oh, sorry Syaoran, I haven't introduced you yet. Messieurs, this is Syaoran of Clow, a new friend of mine."

Every man shook hands with Syaoran as Watanuki explained, in great detail, all of Syaoran's personal merits.

"I- I owe my life to this man!" Watanuki exclaimed, to everyone's surprise.

Syaoran flushed, "I wouldn't go as far as that."

"Your life!" cried Fuma, ignoring Syaoran's protests, "Well, you'll have to tell us that story!"

But just as Watanuki opened his mouth to speak, the old servant reentered. He bowed to the gentlemen as they turned to look at him and said, "Messieurs, the Count of Celes."

When it was announced that breakfast was ready all of the young men, so impressed by the Count's handsome features, stately manners and good taste, fairly followed _him_ into the kitchen. They immersed themselves so deeply in conversation with one another they hardly remembered to eat.

The Count himself ate next to nothing, asking simply for a glass of red wine, which he sipped happily as he watched the other men talk.

"I tell you, I swear to you on my life, that I could have died. Had it not been for the courageous acts of this young man, I would not be here eating with you today." Watanuki cried earnestly, patting Syaoran's shoulder with the utmost tenderness.

Syaoran put up a hand, bidding Watanuki to cease all of his praise, "Please, sirs, it really isn't as dramatic as Monsieur Watanuki says. I was merely doing my job as an officer in the army. Any of you would have done the very same."

"Not I," said Fuma with a chuckle. "I don't think I would have been so brave as you. Remind me to stay your friend, so that should I ever fall into the hands of the enemy, as Wata did, I can count on you to come and save me."

"You shouldn't be so modest," said the Count, leaning forward to address Syaoran, "You've done a great thing. It makes you a very honorable person."

Monsieur Syaoran had heard much praise in this same strain since he had finished his year of service, but the Count spoke so sincerely, and with such great conviction, that Syaoran was rendered speechless. He felt he had never been so flattered in his life.

"Thank you, Monsieur," he managed to say after a moment's choked silence. "That means a great deal to me. Being honorable like- like my father, has always been my greatest ambition."

The Count smiled and took another sip of wine.

"I'm sorry, Count," said Kamui, checking his time piece impatiently, "I know that the reason for your coming was to meet my mother, unfortunately both of my parents are still at the temple. I had hoped they would have returned sooner."

"Oh, I don't mind waiting. It's nice enough being in the company of you gentlemen."

Subaru, who had remained mostly quiet for the past few minutes, now addressed the Count, "Monsieur, Kamui and I were speaking of you before the other guests arrived. I must say, we both were rather at a loss to explain the relationship between you and your friend Monsieur Kurogane. Does he… live with you?"

The Count smiled, "Ah."

"I hope you don't mind my asking."

"Not at all. Monsieur Kurogane and I have had the pleasure of knowing each other a very long time. He does, in fact, live with me and has lived with me in many different countries before this one."

The young men all looked at each other.

"Are you… relatives?" asked Fuma after a moment.

The Count smiled in a way that made all but Kamui shiver, "Why, no. I suppose you could call Kurogane my slave."

"But, this is France," said Kamui over his friends' stunned silences. "No one is a slave in France."

"I realize that. I do not mean that he is a slave in that I keep him against his will, or that I force him to work for me. He is a slave simply in that I bought him from a slave trader in the East. In all other ways he is completely free."

"Then he… chooses to stay with you?" Watanuki asked, his brow furrowed with both confusion and amusement.

"If I were he," replied the Count, "and I had the choice between finding my own way out on the streets or living in the home of a wealthy man who denies me nothing, I would certainly choose the later. Kurogane is no fool." He laughed, then added, as an after thought, "Besides, I am quite dependent on him. I would be put in a very difficult position if he left."

Fuma was so amused by this that he could hardly keep his composure. His shoulders shook with laughter as he said, "Monsieur, do you do anything as other people do?"

"I make it a point not to."

It was at that moment that the door to the dining room opened to admit an older looking man with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and small spectacles that rested in the middle of his nose. He stood very straight and proud as he looked around the table for his son, and when he found him he exclaimed, "Kamui, my boy, I had no idea you were having guests here this morning. If I had known your mother and I wouldn't have taken so long at the temple."

"Mother knew perfectly well that I was having company today, it was she who suggested it." Kamui said coldly, rising stand next to his father. He then turned and looked at the Count. "Father, this is the Count of Celes. Count, this is my father, Monsieur Kyle Rondart, Count of Jade."

A strange sort of smile stretched across the Count of Celes' lips; a dark, menacing cloud passed over his brow for just a moment, before being replaced with his usual cheerful expression and polite countenance.

"Of course," he said, standing up to bow to the Count of Jade. "I have heard quite a bit about you in the papers, Monsieur. You seem to be quite the patron to the people."

Monsieur Rondart chuckled, "That's very kind of you to say. I have heard a bit about you as well, from my son and some of the shop owners in town. Your arrival has made quite the stir."

Many of the young men still seated at the table nodded and were about to say that they too had heard quite a bit of gossip around Paris regarding the Count, but were cut off by the sound of rustling clothing in the hall, the tinkling of very expensive jewelry.

A moment later a tall, beautifully shaped woman stood in the doorway, looking over the scene with wise, stern eyes. Her gaze very quickly fell on the Count, and slowly, unconsciously, she raised a hand to her chest, staring at him with a look of both surprise and reproach.

The Count never lost his smile, "You must be the Countess."

The woman made no motion that she was going to speak, so Kamui answered for her, "Yes," he said, "This is my mother. Madame Yuuko Rondart."

With the most elegant air, the Count moved round the table to meet her, grasped her hand in his and kissed it lightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you Madame, truly."

The Countess said nothing, only continued to stare.


End file.
